Pay to Play
by Zombie-plan
Summary: The Irken race has finally cut ties with Zim and enables his PAK to work with Irken technology. Bent on self preservation, Exile Zim travels the universe, seeking a new purpose. This quest proves to be a challenging one as Zim is forced to make questionable decisions. Will include Dib, Gaz, Tak, Lard Nar and other character cameos. - Sex, drug, violence, and other warnings inside!
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING!**

Future chapters will contain; offensive language, drug use, drinking, smoking, mental torture, physical torture, sexual abuse, prostitution, cross-dressing, and xenophilia! - all relating to Zim

Zim will be going through some hard times, but this story will have **no angst**. I have enough of it in my life, so I don't need to read or write about it.

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**Prologue**

If the tallest choose to read the latest review sent in by Irken Invader Zim, they would have learned the cruel joke that nature has played on mankind.

This review talked about the most appalling flaw on the human body. Unlike every other species in the universe that doesn't live on the planet Earth, the humans have a sexual organ right next to where they deposited bodily waste. They fornicate and defecate in the same general area; it's a ridiculous concept to say the least. If mankind should ever gain knowledge for space travel and learn to survive on foreign planets, they would become a laughing stock to the dominant races as soon as this fact leaked out. An inferior species indeed.

The flaw also has strong potential to bring down the human race since they are already prone to diseases and infection. If Zim took the time to exploit this potential, he would soon be ruling the earth. Instead, Zim chose to write up the review as a humorous fact for his leaders to laugh at.

Instead of laughing at the review, his leaders laughed at him- or what they were going to do to him.

Zim was a huge thorn in the side of the entire Irken race. His simple existence was a death threat to anyone and everyone. And no amount of banishments and fake missions can hold him back from being an active member to the armada. Any and all truths fell on deaf ears, or antennas in this case, to why he was sent to planet earth. Words did nothing to the false invader. Now was time for action, and action spoke louder than words.

It was the Tallest who came up with the clever idea to find a Vortian to make a plan. A very special Vortian. A Vortian who once worked with Zim himself!

XXX

Down on planet Vort, inside the prison facility, locked away inside cell unit #777, was a little Vortian, bored out of his mind.

He swung his legs back and forth as he sat on the bench meant to be a bed, and took turns staring at the floor and ceiling. A sigh escaped from his mouth. The boredom was torture, unbearable and continuous. Oh, the things he would subject himself to for a bit of mental stimulation.

Footsteps could be heard down the hall. He closed his eyes and listened to the rhythm, calculating the time between each step, and summing up how much body mass the Irken must have to produce the force of the echoing step.

He opened his eyes again once he realized the footsteps stopped right in front of his cell. The guard was fatter than he imagined. He expected the newcomer to be tall, not fat, and the miscalculation disappointed him.

The guard slid the door open and cleared his throat.

"Prisoner #777, you have been summoned." He said in his most professional sounding voice.

The Vortian frown. He hated that this has become his new name. It felt like he lost his identity and became something else, a plaything, a tool for the Irken armada. It was standard protocol to recondition the prisoners into forgetting their names and replacing it with their cell numbers. His inability to remember his real name was disturbing. They owned him now, and they can call him whatever they wanted.

#777 hopped off the bench and onto his feet, not caring if the summoning meant trouble. A change in scenery was a blessing to him, and he wasted no time walking out of his cage. The guard slapped the cuffs on his wrist, and together they walked, footsteps harmonized into a steady pattern down the hall.

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**A/N**: An old clip I saw on youtube flashed through my head when I typed that line about 'reconditioning'. I recommend looking up the video "Bingo the clowno". It's an interesting animated bit about brainwashing a guy into a false identity. And the bizarreness of it makes me think that that's what Irkens would do, if they were that imaginative.

Chapter beta-read by Katherine Jasper.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I guess you could say this chapter contains ZADF, but they're more like frenemies than actual friends. However, there is some genuine ZAGF in here.

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XXX

"**Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape. "**

- William S Burroughs, _Naked Lunch_

_XXX_

Music... He could hear it creeping into his consciousness as it tried to pull him from his stupor. An acoustic guitar was being strummed into an eerie rhythm that unnerved him, chilling him to the bone. He could not handle this right now. He wanted to move, to turn the damn radio off before it could make a dent on his inner psyche, but he was having trouble gaining control over his body. A combination of narcotics and something heavy pinning him down was making it difficult. He was stuck, forced to endure the hypnotic tune humans have named "House of the Rising Sun". He was not in the right mind frame for it. The song circulated through his head, spinning his thoughts around, and it made him dizzy. All he could do is keep his eyes shut and will it away.

As the song reached its end, Zim finally allowed himself to crack open his large ruby eyes to survey his surroundings. The sun could be seen setting through the window. He was still in Dib's room, curled up on the bed. One of Dib's bear arms had wrapped around him in his slumber. It wasn't the first time he woken up like this. Zim growled warningly at the human laying beside him. This was getting ridiculous. If Dib doesn't stop this cuddling nonsense, he'll lose more than just a hand.

Speaking of; Zim glanced over at the metal contraption attached to the stump where Dib's hand used to be. He lost it in a car accident a few months back. The accident may or may not have been Zim's fault. Either way, Dib held a grudge. Even if it was Zim's fault, he should be thanking him. The boy's father, Profession Membrane, constructed a new hand, a better hand, for the ungrateful Dib-beast. Why can't Dib see that his body has been improved by the work of technology?

His eye's drifted off the appendage from his side and back to the arm on top of him. He managed to squeeze his arm free and used his claws to pinch at the human's tender skin. He used a well practiced technique that didn't leave any permanent marks, but would still hurt like hell. Pain was an excellent motivator. But there was a problem with Zim's plan. Morphine was still coursing through Dib's body which caused the pain to go unnoticed.

With a frustrated grunt, Zim wiggled and squirmed till Dib's grip loosened enough for him to break free. Still feeling dizzy, he searched for a solid surface to balance himself on. The bed springs weren't being helpful at all. His hand located the nightstand and knocked over half a dozen pill bottles. They rattled and scattered onto to floor.

Zim flicked his antennas around to make sure he still had control of them and that they would be able to recover his equilibrium. Their actions were sluggish and sloppy, a sign that the morphine hadn't fully made it out of his system yet. He glanced over at the lump beside him and sneered.

As much of a benefit it was being part of an amazingly advanced race that have paks to cycle out toxins that can poison the body, it kinda sucked that he couldn't enjoy a high nearly as long as Dib could. However, he didn't have to suffer from a crash like Dib did. Zim let out a light sinister chuckle at the thought of Dib's suffering.

He tried to concentrate to his antennas again till their movements caught up with his brain. After he synchronized their movements, he slid a leg off the side of the bed, and then the other. In a more sober condition, the distance between him and floor wouldn't be a problem. But he wasn't sober, therefore it was. Zim had to remind himself, even if he was short, he was still an Irken.

Irkens were both resilient and adaptable, so jumping down a few feet should be nothing to him. He took a deep breath to brace himself and bounced off the bed with ease, but landed with the pill bottles underfoot. He floundered around till he landed on his face onto the hard floor. He laid there on the ground, glaring daggers at the bottle directly in front of him. It was the one labeled Klonopin. The one Dib acquired for Zim's sake.

Dib claimed it was for Zim's 'anxiety' problems at school, which was stupid. An Irken as mighty as Zim would not have something as silly as anxiety. No, he was just not adjusting fast enough to all the worm-baby's growth spurts, nothing more. It was not the fault of Zim. Humans should not grow that tall, or at least not so quickly, and Zim should not have to be surrounded by all those repulsive, tall, meat-sacks. And most of all, he should not have to feel like he should submit to their tallness. The memory of his time in high-school made Zim shudder.

He did not need anxiety medication. Even if he took the pills, it wouldn't last long in his system, not with his pak. Instead, he solved his problem with absence. Zim found peace by becoming a high-school dropout. If only he thought of that sooner to avoid being called 'midget' by lesser beings.

As for Dib, he had an unusual talent for weaseling out medication from doctors. It could almost be called an art form. Different symptoms were studied and memorized to gain different medications, and to gain a large amount of different medications, he must see various doctors. It seemed like tedious work, but with a great deal of manipulation he could get whatever he wanted, and Dib claimed it was worth it. His skill could all be led back to his missing hand. When he should have been prescribed oxycontin for the pain, he talked them into stepping it up to an oral form of morphine. Ever since, he's been cheating the system.

Zim pushed himself off the ground with trembling hands and gathered up the bottles to return them to their original place on the table. He wasn't doing it to be nice, he just didn't want to trip over them again. His figures still hovered over the Klonopin, unsure if he should take them with him or not. It was meant for him after all. His antennas folded back as he thought. It was questionable why the Dib would give him pills that he earned himself with his own hard work. There was no doubt that Dib would use them himself if Zim didn't, being the pill popper he was. _Surely_ the Dib-stick was intelligent enough to understand the simple universal rule; Never give anything away for free.

Realization snapped into Zim like a rubber band. It could be a trap? He hurdled the bottle at Dib, who made no sign of acknowledgement of being hit and it ricocheted off his large head with a loud thump.

Zim huffed and reached for Dib's glasses that were placed on the nightstand before Dib started his trip, and bent them in half out of spite. After tossing them aside, he marched out of the room, with the occasional stumble from intoxication. Perhaps the rest of Dib's house-mates were around.

XXX

Zim climbed his way up the armrest and into the pit of the well lived-on, leather suede sofa. It was decorated with a variety of stains that he avoided. Gaz was already parked on the other side and held up an all too familiar bag of double stuffed oreos at his arrival. A black cat at her side, her pet that he believed was too friendly for its own good. He scuffled over next to her after shooing the cat away and accepted her offering eagerly with both hands. He hugged it tightly to his chest with glee and almost let out an audible purr. Almost...

From the corner of his eye, he could see Gaz using all her strength to control her facial muscles into not smiling. He knew better than to point it out, it would only end in pain. She would never admit it, but she did have a minor weakness for cute things. Not that Zim was cute.

Their new found friendship perplexed some, and scared most. Zim could never understand why. It wasn't like Gaz ever took part in any of his evil doings. Their friendship was harmless to others. The majority of time together was spent playing video-games, eating oreos, and avoiding other human beings.

Zim split open a cookie and scraped off the white center with his claw. He popped the coated finger into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the thick creamy deliciousness. This was one of the very few things he like about earth, natural sugar, a rarity in any galaxy. It was strange how his tallest haven't parsed him for his discovery yet.

He offered the remaining cookie halves back to Gaz and she shoved them both in her mouth with a loud crunch. He only liked the cream and she only liked the cookie. Together, they made a good team.

"So, what are we watching?" Zim said to break the silence.

He always had trouble watching TV. Nothing ever caught his attention. All he could make out right now was a series of flashing colors. It was so blinding, he didn't notice that the cat made it back onto the couch, quietly mewing at Zim for attention.

"Commercials," she replied flatly, eyes never trailing off the large flat screen before them. It was probably for a new game coming out soon. He could tell by the want in her eyes.

They continued their oreo eating routine; Zim eats cream, Gaz eats cookie. And the cat continued its routine of rubbing up against Zim. Fur fluttered around his antennas, agitating them and making them itch. He ran his hands across the sensitive stocks in an attempt to clean them. His antennas bounced when he released them from his hold and felt a not so delicate cat paw batting at one.

Zim's eye shot open as wide as irkenly possible, his mind unable to processes fast enough to take proper action against such scandalous behavior. On pure impulse, Zim stood to his full height in a threatening manner and shoved the cat away with all the strength he could muster. The cat flew through the air like a ragdoll and skidded across the carpet in a spiraling fashion, trying the latch its claws into something that could slow down the momentum. Once the cat came to a complete stop, it stood up and looked around the room, trying to piece together what just happened. Then it trotted off in the opposite direction looking dazed and confused.

Gaz watched the cat go, mouth hung open in shock. She rose from the couch, spilling the contents of her lap onto the floor. Oreos rolled around at her feet but she paid it no mind. She grabbed Zim by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up till he was face level with her.

"What the hell, Zim!" Her voice sounded hostile but she looked more surprised than angry. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me?!" Zim retaliated with rage, not understanding how he was in the wrong.

He was still livid from the feline's inappropriate actions toward him. Gaz maintained her hold on him as he worked his way into a squirming frenzy trying to break free. Realizing there was no escape, he settled with glaring at her face, but failed to look intimidating while he was dangling in the air.

Zim thrust his pointing finger in the direction where the cat was last seen.

"Your **beast** has no sense in decency!" He let out a frustrated growl, "It's disgusting!"

He could tell by her blank expression that she didn't know what he was talking about. It was clear that more explanation was needed, no matter how embarrassing it was, for her inferior human brain to understand.

"Obviously, your fur-beast is madly in love with me." He voice lightened as he spoke of himself, "I have been tolerating its confessions of love with head bunts and rubs for some time now. Irkens only perform such acts with close partners, so I can only assume that your pet-thing is some sort of harlot. I try to turn a blind eye because I know how easy it is to fall for an amazing invader like Zim."

He looked pleased with himself with that last sentence, but rage quickly washed back into him in a blink of an eye. Antennas folded themselves to his head as flat as they could. His fist clenched to his sides.

"But I cross the line at antenna petting!" Zim growled out through clenched teeth.

Gaz raised an eyebrow, her lips twitched. She dropped Zim and he landed ungracefully with a hard bang sound. He heard her laughing as she walked away toward the side of the couch that was blocked from his view.

"I bought you something," She smirked at him, and added, "you weirdo."

She bent over to pick up a decently-sized white paper bag. Zim's antennas perked with enthusiasm, excited to see what treasures were hid inside. He wasn't known for his patience, and made a flying leap at the bag. Before he could dig his claws onto the prize, Gaz shoved him off with her free hand, knocking him down on his back.

"Stop that!" She roared, "It's not all for you."

Being shoved, nor being yelled at could not damper Zim's excitement. He got up and latched onto her skirt, tugging lightly. His big red eyes sparkled as he stared up at her, resembling a pleading child.

"Gimme," he said, feigning an air of innocence.

Gaz did her best to avoid eye contact and grunted at his pitiful display. She didn't bother pushing him off this time. He would be sticking onto her like a band-aid till she gave up the goods. Giving in, she reached into the bag and pulled out a small folded piece of fabric and uncaringly dropped it on his face.

Zim was shocked by his sudden blindness and stumbled back a couple steps. He felt his face to see what was blocking his view and pulled back an article of clothing. It was exactly what Zim thought it would be, a saucy pair of women's panties. The black fabric was delicate and almost translucent with layers of royal purple frills lining the back, meant to puff out skirts. His face broke into a wide grin from his triumph.

"Its not easy finding them in your size, you know." She grumbled, annoyed that she had not received a sign of gratitude yet.

Her voice pulled him out of his daze.

"Yes, yes. You're excellent work has pleased Zim." He waved her off without even looking in her direction, too distracted by his newest possession.

Zim had a sincere interest in women's clothing. Much of it was flashy and attention grabbing, like Zim himself, so obviously he would be drawn toward the stuff. The only problem was when he wore it in public, he would gain **too much** attention. At school, the other class-mates would challenge him with verbal and physical harassments. He would have blow them into oblivion with his newest death ray, but Dib pulled him aside and explained that it wasn't normal for a boy to wear girl's clothes. Zim would have argued that he wasn't technically a boy by human standards, but he didn't want to reveal information about his race to the Dib-stink. Instead, he let bygones be bygones and let go of the issue. If it wasn't normal then he wouldn't risk getting caught over something so simple.

Gaz, however, was very encouraging on the subject. She would dress him up in the privacy of her own room. Even going as far as applying makeup to his face. And when he expressed interest in the frilly undergarments, she provided them. He wasn't able to successfully purchase them on his own, it had something to do with him being a boy, and whatever 'perverts' are. Through these acts from Gaz, he learned that having a friend could be very beneficial to him.

"Hey!" he almost forgot, "Where's the eyelashes?"

Zim held out his palm and waved it around in a greedy motion, believing that this method helped speed things up. Gaz rolled her eyes at his impudence and fished out a small plastic container from her pocket. She tossed it his way and he caught it with ease.

Fake eyelashes were popular on his planet, as a way of fashion. They were mostly worn by Irkens with curly antennas, which other races have often mistaken as females. This was a common mistake. Curly antennas were incidental traits, not linked to gender, and Irkens were incapable of growing hair, therefore incapable of growing eyelashes. Zim scoffed at the idea. Those poor, simple-minded, inferior alien species.

Gaz shifted her body and flopped back down onto the overused couch. She adjusted herself in a comfortable position and gave off the appearance of a person who did not plan to move for a very long time. Zim was about to climb up next to her, but his pak distracted him with a notification. He was receiving a message, and from what he could tell, an important one. His spooch swelled with hopeful excitement. The tallest might be trying to contact him.

Without giving it a second thought, he clutched his treasures close, and ran to the window, jumping and diving into the outside world. As his feet hit the grass lawn, he made a mad dash toward his base, completely forgetting his human disguise.

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**A/N**: I'm unhappy with this chapter. I would love to jump straight into space but I have to have a setup, which I'm winging btw. I really wasn't expecting to jump into drug-abuse and cross-dressing so soon, but it happened.

**FYI:** Irkens are hermaphrodite in this story.

Also, an artist on tumblr by the name of 'thestralhugs' had some ideas I really like. I had my own views but I like theirs too so I got permission to use them, and I kinda mixed them together.

Instead of kissing I had the idea that Irkens rubbed the heads together till their antennas touch, BUT THEN they had the idea that they bump heads like cats, and I thought that was adorable.

I also ripped off the sentence "Curly antennas were incidental traits, not linked to gender." Its an idea I already had, but they worded it better.

Chapter beta-read by Katherine Jasper.


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